


Sunyata: Omake, Outtakes, and Extras

by Kedibonye



Series: The Troika [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Naruto
Genre: Angst, Companionable Snark, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, Omake, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, The Golden Trio, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-27
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-02-22 16:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13170534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kedibonye/pseuds/Kedibonye
Summary: Snippets written in The Troika universe that don't belong in the main story line and are dubiously canonical to the 'verse. Also known as the dumping ground for anything I might write relevant to this universe while the first main installment is still in development.





	1. The Bell Test

They leaped into the trees the moment Hatake stopped speaking.

 

“Only two of us can pass? Can he do that?” Naruto asked.

 

Sakura looked troubled as she thought about it.

 

“He could. If he already has an apprentice, for example, he might be looking for two more team members for his squad in preparation for his apprentice to take the Chuunin Exams,” Sakura answered.

 

“Well how is that fair?! ‘Sides, I’ve never heard of anyone passing the graduation exam then failing some extra graduation test and returning to the Academy!”

 

“I haven’t either, but we _are_ the only early graduates this year. I looked into it, and aside from you a year ago, we’re the first ones to even attempt early graduation since—” Guiltily, she cut herself off, casting a brief a look in Sasuke’s direction. “—Well, anyway, it’s possible that since we’re early graduates, he _can_ in fact send us back to the Academy if we fail, since we still technically have a year before we were supposed to become genin.”

 

Naruto looked mulish.

 

“That’s _bullshit,_ though! He probably just doesn’t want _me_ as a student, and this is his excuse… Shoulda figured this was too good to be true.”

 

“Naruto! We’re not going to let you fail, whatever sensei says. If anything, I’ll—”

 

“Guys!” Sasuke interrupted, speaking for the first time. “We can figure out who gets to graduate later. We need to actually _get_ the bells first.”

 

_Two hours, many bruises, and one slightly impressed sensei later…_

“Alright, Sasuke, you’ve got the bells. Who gets the other one?”

 

Without saying a word, Sasuke tossed Sakura a bell. Then, before anyone could react, he threw the other one at Naruto.

 

“They can both have them. I’ll just graduate next year,” he said nonchalantly.

 

Out of reflex, Sakura and Naruto both caught the bells.

 

“SASUKE!” they both shouted, horrified, once they’d processed what he said.

 

“Don’t be so _stupid!_ You can’t afford to spend another year in the Academy, you and I both know you need a proper sensei to keep progressing at this point! And Naruto!” Sakura whirled, leveling the blond with a glare and cutting off his half-formed protest. “That applies to you too! Neither of you are likely to get much out of going back to the Academy for a year, and for my part I can wait a few more trimesters to get access to the genin library!”

 

She moved to throw her bell back to Sasuke, but Naruto snapped out a hand to stop her before she could.

 

“No. I mean, not about everything, you’re totally right about Sasuke. He’s too busy being all self-sacrificing again to admit it, but he was Rookie of the Year _despite_ graduating early, and what with You-Know-Who—wait, shit, sorry, pretend I didn’t say that, umm… Right!” Naruto dramatically took a step back, leveling a finger in Sakura’s direction. “You’re just as bad as he is, and don’t even pretend you won’t spend _ages_ mourning over the restricted access. I’m pretty sure you read everything Academy Students have access to by the end of our first year. I don’t want to hear you whining about it for a _whole_ year, and besides that I don’t wanna be a genin if it means leaving either of you behind.”

 

“What, and you think I do?!” Sakura shrieked.

 

Kakashi, for his part, looked on the arguing trio impassively, while Sasuke seemed a bit bewildered by the direction the conversation had taken.

 

“Guys, I will be _fine_. You’re both graduating, and that’s final,” Sasuke stated.

 

“You’re not the boss of me. Screw this test, and screw sensei for trying to make us abandon each other, because _I won’t!_ ” Naruto claimed dramatically.

 

Sakura looked incredibly exasperated, shaking her head and muttering, “ _Boys_ , I swear…” She looked pleadingly at the two of them one last time before she relented.

 

“ _Fine_. I suppose we’ll all just go back then, and we’ll just have to hope they put us on the same team again next year. Sasuke, I’ll draw up a schedule for us; Kami knows Naruto’s skipped enough times that you’ll be able to get away with skipping a few lectures—Don’t look at me like that, you and I both know you will considering we already know most if not all of the material. Naruto certainly mooches off my notes enough as it is, you can look over them too just in case you missed anything important. As for you, Naruto—” she leveled him with a mild glare, “—Maybe you should think of this as an opportunity to learn everything I had to skip over when we were reviewing. Who knows,” she continued with a cheery smile, “You might manage to rank higher than dead last in the exams next year!”

 

“ _Sakuraaaa…._ ” He whined dramatically at that, but it was clear he wasn’t actually offended in the least and if anything looked pleased.

She then turned back to Sasuke, and after a brief battle of wills with their expressions, Sasuke relented with a frown and a sharp nod.

 

Sakura looked entirely too chipper as she turned back to the jounin that’d been silently observing their byplay.

 

“Thank you, Hatake-san, for giving us the opportunity to study under you. However, I’m afraid we’re going to have to decline. Apparently—” she gave Naruto and Sasuke brief, fond looks, “—we’re a bit of a package deal." She bowed politely, and after a sharp nudge at Naruto and a brief glare at Sasuke the two bowed as well, though not as deeply.

 

“Maa, so let me get this straight: I say I’ll take on two of you, and instead you’re all choosing to fail?” Kakashi deadpanned.

 

The three nodded.

 

“Well, in that case…” Kakashi mused, letting the sentence hang for a moment. “I suppose you all… PASS!”

 

He gave the stunned trio an overly cheery smile, lone eye closing into an upside-down ‘u’.

 

Naruto pretty much summed up what the trio were thinking when he responded with a flat “What.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, the good, old-fashioned Bell Test. I like to think that the reason Team Seven wasn't suspicious of the "only-two-can-pass" thing in canon was because that's clearly a thing that has happened before. After all, Obito and Rin joined Team Minato after Kakashi spent several years as the man's apprentice.
> 
> Was there a third person on that team originally as well, and Minato forced them to duke it out to decide who got to graduate? No, probably not; if anything there were likely just an uneven number of graduates that year.
> 
> Kakashi's much more of a troll than his sensei was, however.


	2. The Most Important Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our intrepid trio choose their third-year electives.

“Bishop to G-5,” Ron ordered. The duo watched in silence as Ron’s crimson bishop enthusiastically battered one of Harry’s few remaining ivory pawns to pieces with its crook before Ron continued. “Y’know what I realized the other day?”

 

Harry looked up from the board with a raised eyebrow.

 

“…Have I ever told you how bloody annoying your stupid eyebrow thing is?” Ron asked.

 

In response, Harry silently switched to raising his other eyebrow with an overly-dramatic wiggle. He managed to hold his accompanying stoic expression for about half a second while witnessing Ron’s reaction: an immediate, poorly-suppressed eye twitch, followed by a scowl and an indignant, “Oi! Keep it up and you’re gonna find yourself waking up without eyebrows one of these days!”

 

At that Harry’s expression broke and he let out an amused snort.

 

“Just try me, mate. I dare you,” he challenged, laughter still echoing in his tone.

 

“You’re talkin’ to The Great Prankster King… uh, the Great Prankster Kings’ younger brother! You’re _on!_ ” Ron cried, catching himself midway through what Harry suspected would have been an oddly familiar spiel on Ron's allegedly prodigious pranking abilities. He puffed his chest out quite proudly with the declaration.

 

“Wow, dearest brother mine—” Fred cut in, appearing right on cue behind Ron.

 

“—we had no idea you thought so highly of us!” his twin finished, wrapping his arm around Ron’s shoulder with a buoyant grin.

 

Ron’s ears turned pink, scowl darkening as he tried (and failed) to sound angry.

 

“Hey!” he complained, trying (and failing) to shrug off George’s loose hold, “Can’t a man play a game of chess with his best friend in peace around here?!”

 

“Sure!” George acquiesced cheerily.

 

“A  _man_ can,” Fred continued without a moment’s hesitation and a Cheshire smile of his own.

 

It took a moment for Ron to catch the implication, but Harry could tell the moment he did as his ears began to darken further and his expression became comically affronted.

 

“I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW—” Ron began heatedly.

 

What he wanted them to know would forever remain a mystery, for Hermione chose that moment to sweep dramatically into the Common Room, sliding automatically into the third chair at what had long since become “their” table and dropping her bag to the ground with a soft _thud_.

 

“Ronald!” she snapped automatically at his obnoxiously  boisterous tone. Years of ~~Pavlovian Conditioning~~ friendship had Ron’s jaw snapping shut with a similarly-practiced, sheepish, “Sorry, Hermione.”

 

Harry snickered, taking in Hermione’s slightly rumpled appearance before greeting her with a, “Something in particular got you looking like that?”

 

“ _Does something in particular—_ Harry, I just had my meeting with Professor McGonagall—you know the one I mentioned this morning about choosing electives?” He nodded, and she continued, “Well, anyways. I told you how I couldn’t decide, even after looking through all the pamphlets, because they all seem so useful and I don’t want to miss out on anything important and I wanted to see if she’d let me override, but _apparently_ no one’s tried to take more than three since the forties—three guesses as to who _that_ was, and Ron shut up, I know you’re about to guess Hagrid then Moaning Myrtle and that isn’t nearly as funny nor are you as clever as you think it is—” Ron stung his tongue out in response, not bothering to protest even though she was clearly wrong about that not being hilarious. (Because he was now imagining a Ravenclaw, bookworm Hagrid and his inevitable collection of books literally too hazardous for any sane, sensible wizard that liked having all their limbs attached to read, and it was extremely funny, thank you very much.)

 

Hermione barely bothered to acknowledge the childish gesture with an exasperated half-eyeroll before continuing on with her ~~run-on sentence~~ ~~soliloquy~~ tale.

 

“Well, anyways, the point is it’s apparently a logistical nightmare to even attempt to accommodate, because a lot of the less popular courses, like Muggle Studies or Ancient Runes, tend to have only one section per year, and inevitably end up being scheduled to overlap with some core course. Muggle Studies, for example, pretty much always overlaps with the Slytherin section of _something_ , because, well, not to stereotype but _duh_. So we talked about it for a while, and she said she’ll see what she can do but it’s unlikely they’ll find a course configuration that works—and, by the way, it’s _fascinating_ the way they design schedules, apparently they used to do it by hand until the late 1400s, when someone had the brilliant idea to—”

 

“Hermione.” Harry cut in. He absently noted Fred and George’s silent attempt to escape from the inevitable Inquisition they’d face (for the dozenth time) on their own elective choices once Hermione eventually reached whatever point she was leading up to.

 

“You might be getting a bit sidetracked…?” He prompted leadingly

 

She huffed but acknowledged the point.

 

“It really is interesting, though. But like I was saying, she says she’s going to look into a few things and see what she can do, but in the meantime I have to limit myself to three courses. _Three!_  How am I supposed to narrow it down like that?!” She concluded, finally reaching the crux of the dillema that’d left her so flustered.

 

“So I’m trying to figure it out, and of course I still have the cost-benefits analysis that I gave you guys copies of to help you two decide—”

 

Outside her notice, Harry and Ron exchanged glances at the reminder of the _extremely thorough_ chart she’d drawn up that neither had quite been able to bring themselves to examine.

 

“—but I still stand by the conclusion I came to that they’re all incredibly important! Harry, Ron, I’m sure you’ve both already filled out your selection forms—wait, seriously Ron?! Of course you haven’t, how silly of me to expect otherwise. It’s not like they’re _due to our Head of House at dinner_ or anything… Honestly, I don’t know why I even bother sometimes. Still, what are you guys taking?”

 

Harry, unlike his companions, had actually filled out the form weeks ago. After doing a cursory read-through of the course descriptions and applications, he’d landed on Care of Magical Creatures (the most obvious choice) and Arithmancy (because even though it was supposed to be the hardest of the elective options, numerology was an incredibly useful field that he suspected might have cross-world applications given the way certain numbers seemed to be associated with particular traits or events in both world). Muggle Studies was pointless; he’d been raised in the muggle world. Divination seemed dubious at best, and beside that, he’d long since heard more than enough on “fate” and “destiny” from a certain pale-eyed comrade. He didn't think he'd be able to stomach any more. Ancient Runes, the only other remaining option, did seem promising initially. However, Harry had learned from Percy that the course required studying and learning multiple new languages and writing systems for _years_ before they’d even begin to touch on the (admittedly cool) practical applications. It was thus eliminated on the basis of Harry having much better things to spend his time on.

 

Unlike Ron, who didn’t seem to understand the concept of planning ahead if they weren’t playing chess, or Hermione, who liked to overcomplicate everything, Harry didn’t see any need to fret about the decision for long.

 

“I’m taking Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy,” Harry said simply.

 

“Ron?”

 

“Err, remind me what the options are again?” he asked guilelessly, scratching the back of his head. Hermione’s response was predictable, and Harry internally snickered once more as she berated him because he knew for a fact Ron was just trying (successfully) to rile her up again.

 

Eventually, Ron settled on Care of Magical Creatures along with Ancient Runes like Harry had suspected he would. (He loved his friend, he really did, but for all he claimed to be the Number One Unpredictable Hyperactice, Knuckle-head Ninja in another world, Ron was just as easy to predict as Hermione in many ways.)

 

When asked to justify their choices, both boys shrugged before Ron responded.

 

“Eh, I like animals and I guess it’s probably a good idea both of us learn Runes for the next time Harry inevitably draws us into some millennia-old chamber or discovers some mysterious legendary artifact covered in the things.”

 

“It’s not like I force you to get involved, or even get into these situations on purpose!” Harry protested.

 

“Mate, hate to break it to ya, but without me ‘n Hermione, you’d be dead a half dozen times over at least. You’re hopeless without us,” Ron said, nodding sagely.

 

“Oi! That’s not true, remember the time I—”

 

“Follow the spiders,” Ron interrupted.

 

“Well, okay, but—”

 

“Midnight duel,” Hermione cut in, not willing to miss out on the fun.

 

“It’s not like Malfoy—”

 

“Third floor corridor,” Ron said.

 

“If we hadn’t been there—!”

 

“ _Deathday Party_ ,” Hermione sing-songed.

 

“That was just bad timing!”

 

“Oh, and I almost forgot. There’s that whole minor thing with the BLOODY THOUSAND YEAR OLD BASILISK less than a month ago,” Ron concluded.

 

“…I hate you both.”

 

His friends, of course, merely beamed, laughing uproariously.

 

After calming down, Hermione said she was off to the library before dinner, to do some last-minute ~~agonizing~~ research to help her make her decisions.

 

Alone and at peace one more, the duo looked down at their half-finished chess game.

 

“…Knight to E-3,” Harry said after taking a moment to mentally switch gears and recall his current strategy. Then, as an afterthought, he added, “So, what was it you were gonna say earlier, about having realized something?”

 

(Hermione came running into the Great Hall less than five minutes before dinner ended with her filled out form. To no one’s surprise but her own, she elected to take Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes.)

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some insights into the evolution of the trio's personalities and their friendship via fluffy interactions and our favorite Wizarding Hero's occasional commentary. I think the light-heartedness is coming from a subconscious need to counterbalance the obscene amounts of angst in the other things I've been writing recently. 
> 
> I can't imagine anyone who's spoken to Neji at length being remotely interested in taking Divination, unless you're Hermione/Sakura or insane. (That's not an exclusive or...) Can you?
> 
> This was inspired by me noticing that Bhavacakra had gotten nearly 500 views in like, five days, which is ridiculously awesome. Seriously, thanks guys for the kudos and comments I've gotten on this series so far! Feedback makes my heart incredibly happy, and makes me feel like I'm spending all this time writing and plotting for something other than my own self-gratification. (You do not want to know how much time I've spent putting together an 'OG' timeline for Naruto, or writing a two-page explanation of Konoha's educational system, or putting together a coherent head-canon on basic Konohagakure population statistics... I digress.) You're awesome.


	3. The Sorting Ceremony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gryffindor. Slytherin. Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff. Who are they truly, underneath the underneath?

“Granger, Hermione!”

 

Her mind was still awhirl with thoughts of the two boys she’d sat with on the train—Harry and Ron, Sasuke and Naruto.

 

She’d given much thought to her own potential sorting, ever since she’d first learned of the four Hogwarts Houses nearly one year ago.

 

 _Hogwarts: A History_  had an entire chapter dedicated to each of the Houses, but it shed little light on the Sorting Ceremony itself.

 

Her parents, once they understood the supposed traits of the different Houses, had assumed she was destined for Ravenclaw. She’d skipped two grades in primary school and had always been insatiably curious. Sure, she got into trouble at school a lot in her early years, but she was after all just a child. Shinobi Rule #11, _A shinobi must prepare before it is too late to._

 

Hermione prepares through learning, hones her mind as her greatest weapon. Wit, intelligence, creativity. All admiral traits, to be sure. But Hermione wants to be more than that. She loves learning, and she knows she is intelligent. However, that is not all she is, and it is not all she wants to be.

 

_Intelligence without purpose is a bird without wings._

Next was Hufflepuff. Loyalty, honesty, persistence. The most obvious choice for Sakura, in her own mind. Shinobi Rule #01, _A shinobi must possess absolute loyalty to their Village._

 

The Will of Fire. The unbreakable bond that tied all Konoha shinobi together. Push yourself. Work hard. Make Konoha proud.

 

It is all the things she wants to be, but is it who she is? If she looked deep within herself, to the heart of who she was, what would she find? Would a truly loyal and faithful citizen of Konoha have kept this life, kept England, a secret from Konoha and her Hokage for all these years? Would a truly loyal citizen have agreed to continue to keep that secret, not even two hours prior, at the behest of a boy she scarcely knew?

 

_Lying is done with words, but also silence._

 

Then Gryffindor. Brave, daring, chivalrous. Shinobi Rule #23, _A shinobi must never allow their sword to rust._ How could she be a kunoichi as Sakura, have purpose as Hermione, if she could not embody the heroism and daring of her predecessors. Where would Konoha be, if not for the Yondaime’s bravery in the face of demons? Where would England be, if not for Churchill’s bravery in the face of monsters calling themselves men?

 

She is always scared. She hides behind her friendships as Sakura—too afraid to admit her affections for Sasuke as Sakura, lest she lost her precious friend to rivalry. Scared that she will never measure up to the heroes she so admires, that her life will ultimately amount to nothing of worth. Scared that when she finally becomes a kunoichi, Sakura will fail her comrades and shame her Village. Scared that Hermione is just a powerless, oddball girl after all, that even in a world of magic she will never measure up.

 

_The opposite of courage is not cowardice, it’s conformity._

Lastly, Slytherin. Cunning, ambitious, resourceful. Shinobi Rule #42, _A shinobi must see the hidden meanings within the hidden meanings._ A true shinobi lies in both the flame and its shadow.

 

Yet when she looks at Slytherin, all she sees is the darkness. Voldemort, the greatest Dark Wizard of the twentieth century, said to surpass Grindelwald at his prime. Massacres, murder, treachery. Genocide. A Slytherin, his followers drawn en masse from Slytherin. To conquer, to subjugate, to oppress.

 

The pursuit of power at the expense of all else.

 

A shinobi’s heart is a contradiction. Darkness and the burning light of the Will of Fire. Hermione has dreams, she has goals, and she has ambition aplenty. But not at the expense of sacrificing her ideals. Loyalty, wisdom, courage—for all that she may be lacking, she strives for them all the same. A Muggleborn, mind clouded with idealism and emotion, could never find her home in Slytherin.

 

_Ambition is the last refuge of the failure._

 

(She’s wrong about so much. To be a Ravenclaw implies so much more than simple intelligence and the ability to regurgitate facts. Blind loyalty is not the mark of a true Hufflepuff. A Gryffindor that feels no fear is more idiotic than courageous. A Slytherin’s ambition need not be centered on themselves.)

 

(More than anything, Hermione’s greatest weakness is her self-doubt.)

 

When she places the Hat upon head, it slices straight to the heart of _who she is_ , and it sees her not for her actions, nor her innermost thoughts and insecurities. It is not who she sees herself as, but who she might become, that tells the Sorting Hat where she belongs.

 

And it calls out—

 

 

\-------------

 

“Potter, Harry!”

 

Harry’s not put much thought into how the Sorting Ceremony would play out. He’d thought a test of some sort; perhaps not the troll fight of Ron’s tales but certainly some method of judging their reactions to an unexpected scenario, their responses then used to produce a label they would bear for a lifetime.

 

That his innermost character would be judged by a magical artefact… he didn’t know what it would find, because he’s long been too afraid to look for himself.

 

Look in the mirror, and tell me who you are.

 

Are you brave? Are you daring? On That Night, was it bravery that sent him further into the Clan, that led him to the fateful encounter with That Man? Or was it cowardice, the belief ( _wrong, so wrong_ ) that Someone Else could fix things? Was it courage, that led him to the single-minded determination to continue on despite the grief? Was it courage, that led him to study and train tirelessly? Courage, when the sane man would submit to the inevitability of their own demise at the hands of a man so much more powerful, so much stronger than he would ever be?

 

Or was it just bravado? Who was Harry Potter, who was Uchiha Sasuke underneath it all? He swore to uphold the Uchiha legacy, to stand strong even in the face of impossible odds. Shinobi Rule #15, _A shinobi must recommit themselves to death each morning_. Harry would not fear death, would embrace the possibility and continue to fight for a better future anyways.

 

James and Lily. His parents in this world. He desperately wants to follow in their footsteps. They had fought and died for him, for what they believed was right. To do anything less would be to besmirch their legacy.

Will you die a martyr, or will you choose to live?

 

_You sort of start thinking anything’s possible if you’ve got enough nerve._

Are you intelligent? Are you wise? Was it strength of mind that made him Rookie of the Year? Was it wisdom that had shaped his life as Harry, full of gardening and therapy in search of inner peace? Or was it weakness, a reflection of the lesson he’d learned before he could properly speak: he could never, would never, measure up to That Man? Was it wisdom, to dedicate himself wholly to his studies, a sign that he understood his only hopes lay in the pursuit of knowledge and power? Or was it folly, to think that re-treading the steps That Man had walked nearly a decade prior could possibly allow him to one day measure up?

 

What did Harry believe, underneath it all? He swore he would train, built his entire life around the belief that he might one day learn something ( _anything_ ) that might give him a chance in the face of That Man. Shinobi Rule #03, _A shinobi must always remain two steps ahead of the Enemy._ For every step That Man took, Harry would take a step and so would Sasuke.

 

Fugaku and Mikoto. His parents in another world. They had always looked at him with disappointment in their eyes, and had he been better—wise enough to see That Man’s madness, smart enough to find a way to save them—maybe they wouldn’t have died. To ever measure up in their eyes, he must become all the things he’d failed to be on That Night.

 

_Thoughts could leave deeper scars than almost anything else._

 

Are you loyal? Are you honest? Was it loyalty that led him to take his Oaths, or was it the blind pursuit of power and ambition? When betrayal was in his blood, could he truly be loyal? Remain so, even where betrayal might increase his chances of success? How could he claim to be honest, to scorn the liar, if he wasn't honest enough to know his own heart? Shinobi Rule #40, _A shinobi must work where others rest._ How could he claim to be hard-working, when as Harry he allowed himself the luxuries of hobbies, of breaks and relaxation instead of inexorable determination? 

 

What would Harry do, given the impossible choice? He swore he would never stoop to that man’s level, that he would stand alone and never allow himself to face the temptation of Those Eyes. If he allowed for friends, would he one day choose to sacrifice them in the pursuit of power? Madness was in his blood, in the blood of his ancestors and in the blood of his most immediate family.

 

Konohagakure and the Uchiha Clan. He owed his absolute loyalty to both. It was inevitable that one day he would be forced to choose. In the face of a decision that would require the betrayal of either Konoha or his Clan, he would become what he hated most either way. The Clan. The Village. One, not both. He couldn’t serve two masters forever.

 

_We are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided._

Are you cunning? Are you ambitious? When could he ever claim to have been cunning? When his planning amounted to: train, grow stronger, defeat That Man? Was it ambition that drove him? Or was it the echo of That Man’s eyes directing him like a marionette on its strings? Shinobi Rule #27, _A shinobi must never be manipulated._ Was it single-minded focus and determination guiding his path, or had he already unwittingly surrendered to That Man’s desires? How could he claim to be ambitious, when he knowingly deprived himself of a tool that would bring him closer to his dream? How could he claim to be resourceful, when he’d barely scratched the surface of what England could offer? When he’d lived a decade of his life and never seen the Wizarding World in the peripherals?

 

What mattered most to Harry, in the end? Was it the death of That Man? Was it honoring the legacy of his fallen family? Was it a life well-lived? What would bring him contentment? What did he desire?

 

Peace and violence. The Uchiha had once been bathed in blood, yet it was only after they’d chosen peace that they’d been extinguished. The Potters had ideologically stood for equality and peace between all; they had fought and died for their beliefs. Was his life trapped in a cycle of hatred, a cursed existence? Were his ambitions worthy? Was he worthy? Strip away That Man, and was there anything important left underneath?

 

_The world isn’t split into good people and Death Eaters. We’ve all got both light and dark inside us._

(Harry wants more than anything in the world to be Better than That Man. The trouble is, he doesn’t quite know what that means, or what he would look like if he became that person. He’s never seen himself as valuable or important in his own right, and it’s reflected in the way he constantly doubts himself, sees the worst in his own thoughts and actions and rarely the good. Until he learns to see the bravery, the wisdom, the loyalty, and the cunning within himself, he will never see the truth of his own Heart.)

 

(Harry’s greatest weakness is in his insecurities, for nothing is possible if you do not believe it so.)

 

When Harry places the Hat upon his head, he feels only fear. Fear that the Hat will see his Heart, and it will be found lacking. The Hat sees the boy underneath the shadows cast by others, the child who might one day grow into a man that would save the world. The Sorting Hat sees, and knows the House that gives him the greatest chance of becoming that man.

 

And it calls out—

 

\-------------

 

“Weasley, Ronald!”

 

Ron is a Weasley, and the Weasleys are Gryffindors with pride. He’s never doubted where he belongs, until he meets a boy and a girl on a train and his mind whispers _What If—_

Ron sees four futures laid out in flashes before him.

 

As a Gryffindor, he is with his brothers. He is the son that he is expected to be, a Weasley through and through. He’ll join his brothers at the House table, and he will be happy. Ron is no hero, but Naruto is, and a Hero above all else must be brave.

 

Save the princess, slay the dragon, get the girl. In Gryffindor, he and his friends are destined for adventure aplenty. Bill, the Curse-Breaker. Charlie, the Dragon-Tamer. Brave and honorable, unafraid to take a stand for what’s right even in the face of opposition. The Weasleys have borne the title of _blood traitor_ with no regrets. His father, taunted and marginalized for his eccentric interests in Muggles, for his equally-bizarre insistence that his job—Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office—is not a dead-end position indicative of a lack of ambition. No, he tells his children, there are more things to life than money and prestige.

 

“To know what is right, and do nothing, is the mark of a coward.” The First Hokage’s words, but his father’s philosophy all the same. Muggles, he emphasizes to his children, are just as human—just as important, just as valuable—as any witch or wizard. To defend the defenseless is the highest honor one can ask for.

 

To be a Gryffindor is to be a beacon of what is Right and Good. Champions of justice, men who stand stalwart in the face of danger.

 

He could belong in Gryffindor. As a Gryffindor, Ron could _act._ And yet his mind whispers, _you can be so much more than a shadow of your siblings._

 

_Their daring, nerve, and bravery set Gryffindors apart._

He glimpses a life in Ravenclaw. Unexpected, the opposite of what anyone who knew him in either life would expect of him. Average intelligence, lacking wit, never the Original but merely a copy.

 

They say a Ravenclaw’s wit is matched only by their creativity. Pioneers in every field, they are inventors and politicians and their minds shape and build a better future. Ron the Ravenclaw struggles to make friends at first. He has an unusual knack for out-of-the-box thinking, and his tendency towards strategies that are maddening yet effective will be the spark that initiates his friendships. Evenings spent in the Common Room playing chess, his mind pitted against the greatest minds of his generation. In Ravenclaw, he will thrive.

 

Not the brightest, the cleverest, nor the quickest learner. His friends will rib him good-naturedly as a moron, but there’s more to being a Ravenclaw than facts and figures, knowledge and education.

 

They’ll come to see his insightfulness, the way he can take impossible scenarios and drill straight into the heart of a matter. As a Ravenclaw, he will force his family to see him in a new light, to re-evaluate the unspoken assumptions they’d long made about the youngest Weasley male.

 

As a Ravenclaw, he too could be a pioneer. A Hokage must be able to understand, to see the truths beneath the facts. He must know his people, must protect them from threats both blatant and shrouded.

 

A Hokage who cannot see is not a Hokage at all. As a Ravenclaw, Ron could _see_.

 

And yet—

 

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw, if you’ve a ready mind._

Perhaps he’s cast a Hufflepuff, whose loyalty never wavers. It wouldn’t be an easy path, not towards the acknowledgement he craves. Hufflepuffs are duffers, the left-overs. The soldiers, not the generals. The side-kicks, not the heroes.

 

As a Hufflepuff, his loyalty is his most defining trait. He will never give up, will keep fighting even when the whole world turns against him. Naruto has never had it easy; neither has Ron. Consistently under-estimated, he’ll grow to surprise them all.

 

In Hufflepuff, he’ll find true comrades. Unwavering and indomitable, as a Hufflepuff he’ll learn that the spotlight is not the measure of success. Rather, it’s the lasting impact—the bonds built, the hearts comforted and the lives protected—that matters as a Hufflepuff.

 

His father would be the only one in his family whose initial reaction isn’t shock. More than his siblings, Ron has always listened wide-eyed to his lectures on compassion, his belief that difference does not imply lesser. _Like man, like master_ , the First Hokage famously said. Ron’s master is his conscience, and his morals are unshakable.

 

Sorrow. Heartbreak. Love. Compassion. He’ll wear his emotions on his sleeves, and he’ll make mistakes but he will never quit. As a Hufflepuff, Ron would _feel_.

 

He could be the Heart. He could change the world through an outstretched hand and a genuine smile. It would take years for his siblings to see him as he truly is, if they ever manage it at all, but Ron is used to being over-looked.

 

Of any Ron that could be, in Hufflepuff his Will of Fire burns the brightest. His empathy would be the tool through which Naruto would shape the future.

 

 _I will be acknowledged,_ the voice of a younger Naruto echoes, and perhaps—

 

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true, and unafraid of toil._

 

Then, there is Slytherin. If Ravenclaw was unlikely, Slytherin was anathema. The Weasley dislike for pureblood ideology is legendary, and Ron believes there isn’t a witch or wizard who has gone bad that wasn’t in Slytherin.

 

As a Slytherin, Ron would create a split between himself and his family that would take years to fix, if it ever could be. Ron was ambitious, had long wanted to step out of the shadows of his siblings and stand triumphant as his own man.

 

What kind of ambition creates a Slytherin? The House’s reputation is in tatters in the wake of You-Know-Who. They can’t be trusted, are slimy, sneaky _snakes_. A Slytherin would just as soon stab you in the back as help you. They care only for themselves.

 

The core of Ron’s sense of self remains the same as a Slytherin. He’s always been a Slytherin, from the first time Naruto pasted a false smile on his face and convinced another he was happy. He’s always been a Slytherin, since he decided he would become Hokage and prove himself to the villagers as worthy. Ron’s most treasured dream as a child, the one he’s held closest to his heart, is to eclipse his siblings. He’s always been a Slytherin, but a Slytherin is _evil_ and so this part of him has long gone unacknowledged.

 

In Slytherin, Ron will learn to understand others in a way that he could never manage in another House. Ron will live with the children of Death Eaters, will learn of the untenable positions of their children in a world where their families are so clearly cast the villains. He will sleep in the same room as a Malfoy, will be forced to see the humans behind the caricatures.

 

A Ron in Slytherin understands that even the worst of humanity has some redeeming qualities, that even in the darkest of hearts there is a spark of light and goodness that cannot be extinguished. Ron will see this spark as potential for the Will of Fire in everyone, and it will make it that much harder when he cannot win against centuries of prejudice and hatred.

                                

A Ron in Slytherin does not have an easy life. He will be burdened by failures, real and imagined. Should another War break out, it would now be brother against brother. To be a Slytherin is to be _one of us_ , one of the elite, precious belonging through the bitterest of disputes.

 

A Ron in Slytherin could grow beyond what he ever imagined, and he would not be forced to walk that road alone.

 

 _I will be Hokage_ , Naruto proclaims. As a Slytherin, Ron could _be._  

 

And so—

 

_Or perhaps in Slytherin, you’ll make your real friends._

 

(Ron is far more complex than he’s been given credit for. He can embody each House in its ideal. He has never see the Other, merely Us. Though it’ll be years before he’ll be able to articulate that conviction, he’ll always know that people are so much more than a just a single House. Understanding this will be a mark of true maturity.)

 

(Ron’s greatest strength is also his greatest weakness, for his heart could lead to ruin as much as reward.)

 

When Ron places the Hat upon his head, he sees his different futures branching out from this one moment. Though Ron does not understand this, is not the House that makes the man. It is the man that makes the House. The Sorting Hat sees this, and knows where he belongs.

 

And it calls out—

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know the whole angst/positivity dichotomy I mentioned in the last chapter's notes? Apparently, this is what happens when the bits of the main story line I'm writing are too cheerful.
> 
> Recently, I've been doing a lot of reflection on where this version of the trio might be sorted, since it ultimately drives the direction their lives will develop. I considered the ways each of them reflect the different Houses, and what a given placement would say most about their character. 
> 
> Some matches are more obvious than others, but obvious doesn't always imply accurate. 
> 
> I've settled on where the trio are going, and this is no story where the trio get their own special House, or dual-sorted, or anything of that nature. 
> 
> These scenes are very much a reflection of how the trio currently sees themselves, and (if you squint) who they really are. Where do they fit best?


	4. Tsukuyomi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the Tsukuyomi, Itachi’s control is absolute.
> 
> Sasuke kills his Clan. Kills them again and again and again, two hundred and fifteen times.

There are one hundred and thirty-nine Uchiha living in Konoha six years after a demon decimated the Village.

 

Sixty-seven of them are active-duty ninja. Three are on medical leave. Fourteen are retired ninja—though for shinobi, retirement is often a somewhat nebulous term. There are thirteen children younger than Sasuke himself, who at thirteen is now only just above the standard Konoha graduation age. The remaining forty-two are civilians, although the majority spent at least a few trimesters in the Academy as young children.

 

There are seven Uchiha who were not born with the name but married into the Clan.

 

All married in before the Kyuubi Attack.

 

The oldest, Uchiha Shi, is sixty-five. Old enough to remember Konoha’s founding, to remember Uchiha Madara as Clan Head, to remember the promises of new beginnings and equal status in the peace accords with the Senju. A former kunoichi that retired young to bear three children she outlived by decades.

 

(One, two, three. One lost to each War, far too young.)

 

(Four, five, six. Three bodies that never breathed their first. Two lost after Takiji, the eldest son. The final after Kaida, the youngest daughter. A reaction to the death of her husband, they say.)

 

( _She’s never forgiven the Village, or herself, for the loss._ )

 

The youngest, Uchiha Kazuhiro, is only five months old. Half-Uchiha, his mother Yui the only still-living ninja who married into the Uchiha Clan. Kazuhiro is a colicky baby, as the dark shadows under her eyes can attest.

 

(Yui’s a career chuunin. In another life, where not an Uchiha, she's an Academy teacher or an administrator. Her eye for detail was impressive enough to be noted in her file. Before the Attack she was being scouted for a role in the Tower. Instead, she’s perpetually on rake duty—slang of choice for the dozens of tedious, technically-necessary but dead-end missions that were little more than D-Ranks outside Konoha’s walls.)

 

Two women, both civilian, are pregnant. One is seventh months along, her husband a Military Police officer. The other, not quite two months along; she’s only just begun to suspect the new life’s existence.

 

Sasuke knows the chakra signatures of every Uchiha, counts one-hundred and thirty-eight pinpricks of light within the compound.

 

He is in full ANBU gear. Konoha's symbol still rests unbroken on his forehead.

 

( _This will be his final mission as a sanctioned Konoha shinobi._ )

 

He breathes in. Breathes out all emotion.

 

( _Sasuke-Sasuke-Sasuke—for you, I’ll do the unforgivable._ )

 

He checks his sword, ANBU issued but uniquely his after years of exclusive use Doesn't check kunai or shuriken, but feels their presence in his pockets nonetheless.

He doesn’t visit the Naka Shrine. Sasuke will find no absolution or solace from his ancestors for this.

 

A single, thrumming pulse only he can detect, and Sasuke _moves_.

 

He encounters Izumi first. She loves him, he knows, though he’s never understood her sentiments.

 

( _Sasuke-Sasuke-Sasuke—sworn to protect, is it proof of love or cruelty that you will survive?_ )

 

His eyes flash red.

 

( _Her mind sees a lifetime of contentment and happiness that he could never have given her, even in another world where both grew up loyal shinobi._ )

She doesn’t feel the blade. She dies instantly.

 

Four children and their two chaperones are next.

 

He knows their names. Their underdeveloped chakra flares, burning into his soul and Sharingan before going out for good.

 

Kosuke. Mother dead, father in the Military Police. Kaho, his eight-month-old sister, napping in the arms of her civilian aunt, Emiko.

 

Takashi, nine and bickering with Haruko, also nine.

 

Children of two parents in the police force, twins. Children of two civilian mothers. One, Junko watches them play with a tender smile.

 

Emiko first. Straight through into Kaho in a single thrust.

 

Kosuke.

 

Takashi.

 

Junko instinctively dives for her daughter.

 

A pointless gesture. Sasuke gives her one small mercy: she dies before her daughter.

 

The slaughter continues.

 

Eight-nine-ten-eleven-twelve-thirteen-fourteen-fifteen and the remaining Uchiha are reacting to the bloody swathe he’s cutting through their district.

 

Asuga, six and in a pink kimono, is the first to die that has a chance to really know and fear what’s coming. The rush of emotions activates her Sharingan.

 

( _Two years younger than even Itachi._ )

 

For an instant he makes contact with spinning, tear filled eyes.

 

( _She does not get a lifetime, but he gives her peace in her final moments. A dream where she is happy and warm and safe with parents, one of whom he’s just killed in front of her._ )

 

Sixteen-seventeen-eighteen-nineteen.

 

Sasuke is a Shinigami trapped in the form of a blood-splattered thirteen-year-old.

 

Twenty, and he fights his first shinobi clansman, a chuunin lieutenant in the police force. Aoto is prepared to give his life in the hopes of protecting his heavily pregnant wife. Like so many of his clansmen, he's dressed in a festive yukata for the upcoming celebrations.

 

He’s respectably talented at taijutsu. Known for his skill in non-lethal takedowns.

 

His mature Sharingan blazes. Burning bright with the Will of Fire against an unknown enemy.

 

Then he recognizes Sasuke, and falters for a split second.

 

He dies to the hysterical screams of his wife. She’s sobbing, her arms wrapped protectively around her stomach.

 

His sword swings. Two beating hearts are made still by a single, clinically precise movement.

 

Sasuke withdraws his sword. The body falls to the ground.

 

He falters.

 

His own vomit and bile is left to mix with the fluids pooling on the floor.

 

( _Sasuke-Sasuke-Sasuke. For-you-for-you-all-for-you._ )

 

He counts the twenties with the elders.

 

( _The blessed few kills he feels no shame in committing. The most vocal, the hardliners than propelled the Clan off this impossibly deadly precipice._ )

 

He counts the thirties with swords in the backs of screaming, fleeing civilians. Counts them in the chests of parents desperately begging for the lives of their children.

 

Forty-four. Sasuke reaches the last of the children.

 

Taku. Five, due to start the Academy in the next cycle. He cowers where his mother’s hidden him. His back is pressed into the corner of a closet, body curled in on itself protectively. His fist in his mouth, trying to muffle any revealing sound. He's shaking in terror.

 

( _Keep counting. He’s killed more Uchiha than the Yellow Flash killed Iwa-nin in the Battle for Kannabi Bridge._ )

 

His sword is scarlet. He’s high on adrenaline and suppressed shock.

The end of Sasuke's rampage draws near. Soon, there are only two pinpricks of light remaining in the compound.

 

He reaches his home.

 

Sasuke breaks.

 

( _A rush of carefully concealed emotion escapes in a torrent of tears and shaking hands._ )

 

He is silent.

 

( _He is the voice in the back of his mind, the primal screams of a six-year-old bleeding into reality._ )

 

He is thirteen. Pre-pubescent. A shinobi for nearly half his life already.

 

(He will be what convinces The Professor and his Council to set strict age minimums on certain shinobi milestones. Nine for the Oath, the precursor to genin status. Thirteen for ANBU. Thirteen and chuunin status, for Seduction Corps, Torture & Interrogation, or Deep Cover assignments _._ )

 

(Danzou will quietly intercept and fill the resulting gaps, for ROOT is Konoha’s Children’s Crusade.)

 

\----

 

In the Tsukuyomi, Itachi’s control is absolute. For seventy-two hours, Sasuke lives through the massacre, his mind prisoner in the back of his nii-san’s. One hundred and thirty-eight Uchiha die in the span of minutes.

 

Itachi carefully sculpts the narrative, makes himself the singular, remorseless culprit.

 

(Sasuke is very lucky he cannot dream.)

 

( _The nightmares will haunt him anyways._ )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...We begin to see why even with years of therapy, Harry and Sasuke are not fully okay.
> 
> For the curious, I've landed on what will likely be the final title for the first book: Bhuta Shuddhi. 
> 
> Question for the reader: I'm considering posting by arc, rather than waiting until I've finished the entire work. There are roughly four arcs, so what I'd likely do if I go this route would be post on a weekly schedule, with the expectation that there may be longer breaks between the arcs themselves. 
> 
> Thoughts/preferences?
> 
> Keep in mind either way it'll be a while, what with the chaos of being a second semester senior in university. Currently working on draft one of chapter three. 
> 
> Feedback on my writing, as always, is greatly appreciated!


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